Mother's Gentle Cruelty
by Sombereyes
Summary: She pondered if her mother mirrored her fear, and the hesitancy found only in the hands of one poised to strike. Were her mother's eyes the same too? Were they so cold, so barren of any true warmth?


A/N: Another little short fiction based in the Akuma no Riddle universe…since the anime series is incomplete as of yet, this is all merely speculation…but I'd like to think that for a person such as Tokaku, the desire would be there, even if it would be an odd, and conflicting feeling. Tokaku's past interests me, and I might dive more deeply into that later, but right now, I'll enjoy writing one shots as I practice toying with the characters.

**Mother's Gentle Cruelty **

"I don't think they'll come jumping through the window." A voice that was as sweet as honey said with a laugh. As she sat crossed legged upon her bed, she felt amused that her bodyguard took to such lengths to keep a watchful eye over her. Still, the peaceful night spoke of calm, uneventful slumber. She prayed she could convince her friend of that much. "You can relax now, I didn't get any letters, not even an envelope. It should be okay."

The shadows that were outside were harmless, the young assassin knew that. There would be no threat to come to either one of them so easily, and yet, in the dead of night horror stories were written. Tokaku licked her lips, and put down her knife, leaving it on the table. It went against her training, and challenged her better judgment. She did it unthinkingly of the consequences, and nonplussed by the pleased look that Haru gave her. "Don't be so sure."

"Even if someone is plotting something, I can sense tonight will be okay." Her strawberry hair, down for the night, framed her beautiful face. "They wouldn't try anything right now. It's too soon, a plan that hasty would fail."

"They might." Tokaku replied, her voice lost in the void of emotionlessness. Her cold eyes, like that of ice looked out to the campus below. "I would."

The cold stare reflected so perfectly, that Haru sighed, shaking her head upon seeing the sharp and uneasy glance. "They won't." Haru insisted, climbing off the bed, and making her way across the room. Tokaku was as steady as a rock, her feet planted firmly, unmoving. "You can let your guard down, sometimes, it won't do any harm." She said with a forced smile. "I'm not weak."

"Hm." The gruff vocal reply came, but so with it came that heated, piercing gaze. "People are weak."

"They are also strong, because they must be." Haru told her, grabbing Tokaku's arm in a gentle tug. "Weaknesses in one person, can be a strength in others. Haru believes that firmly, without a doubt."

Her stare gave not a single indication of how she felt. She had always intended to remain as emotionless as she could be, as such a coldness would often offer an opponent an intimidating rivalry. She couldn't continue to keep up such a thing around this girl, however blind to the facts that she seemed to be. Instead, she merely took the girl and swung her into the bed without thinking twice, a smirk finding her lips. "Trust in others…that is weak." Tokaku replied as she looked back out of the window. The moon cast their room in the soft glow of the night sky. "You should learn to be strong." It's fullness was like a lamp guiding the way.

"I have strength enough when I need it." Haru replied then with a laugh as she sunk into the soft mattress. "You should learn to be gentle."

Icy blue eyes found those of rose, a tiny bit of humor laced between them. "I am gentle enough, for a killer."

"Then, perhaps it is because you lack cruelty." Haru replied, only to receive a nod.

"I've yet to kill you." Tokaku agreed, going back to the knife on the table, continuing to sharpen it, her vigil not yet over in her mind. It only took a few moments of her practiced and repeated action before she sighed, looking up from her project. "That alone says that I am not strong enough."

"What would you wish for?" Haru asked then. "If you could kill me, and have anything you wanted, what would it be, Tokaku?"

The girl looked down at her blade, at the eyes that reflected in the metal. "Eyes like mine, but aren't mine, that will look to me."

"Eyes like yours?" Haru said then, sitting up confused.

"A child." Tokaku replied sternly, her emotionless mask slipped back effortlessly upon her face. "I'd want a child, a daughter, to train."

"Don't you think that's an odd wish?" Haru asked, squinting in the darkness, trying to understand just why her friend would desire such a thing.

Tokaku continued sharpening her knife. "There is nothing odd about progeny. Nothing strange about battle…hardship." She sent a sideways glance back over to Haru. "Nothing strange about friendship…family." With that, she examined the deadly blade that glinted dangerously in the night. "Nothing wrong with learning to protect, or teaching to do the same."

The memories were distant, and far Tokaku's reaching aspirations could never grasp hold of them. No matter how many battles she faced, it had become clear. She would never see past the fog of her life, and, accepting that truth would be just fine. Despite that, she could remember a life hazed by her nature, skewed by what she had been told. In the face of her bloodline, she'd been lied to, deceived by those nearest to her.

However, in the pit of her heart, she knew the truth.

She was once loved. Embraced by a woman who looked like her, and fought with the selfsame tenacity and skill. Her mother, who had once taught Tokaku to cut down her opponents with a much fervor as she could muster, also bespoke of love. She was not an unkind person, in fact, her nature relied on it, because she was a woman fated to be named the head of the family…heir to the burdens that no one else would take upon their shoulders. Without kindness, she had nothing.

Tokaku wondered if her mother felt the same as she did. Without meaning or guidance…she wondered if the woman would be such a puppet to have undergone the same struggle. She pondered if her mother mirrored her fear, and the hesitancy found only in the hands of one poised to strike. Were her mother's eyes the same too? Were they so cold, so barren of any true warmth?

She doubted it, as she nodded to herself anyway. It was those selfsame lessons that made Tokaku's wish unattainable. "It is impossible. If I kill you, I have nothing to protect. The wish would be meaningless."


End file.
